VII. THE COW WITH THE GOLDEN HORNS.
“ I hope that isn’t all of the story,—if you call it a story,” said Buster John.
“Which?” remarked Mr. Thimblefinger, with an air of having forgotten the whole business.
“Why, that about throwing the gold ring from the window,” replied Buster John.
“Well, no,” said Mr. Thimblefinger, in an absent-minded way. “In a book, you know, you can read right on if you want to, or you can put the book down and rest yourself when you get tired. But when I’m telling a story, you must give me time to rest. I’m so little, you know, that it doesn’t take much to tire me. Of course, if you don’t like the story, I can stop any time. It’s no trouble at all to stop. Just wink your eye at me twice, and I’m mum.”
“Oh, we don’t want you to stop,” said Sweetest Susan.
